Dead Years
by Angel0624
Summary: What if Raoul had married Meg in stead of Christine? And, in consequence to this, they have a daughter and some thirty years later decide to visit the jolly old land of France again? What happens if they find the Opera House abandoned, but, there is most definitely someone inside?
1. Arrival

Chapter One: Arrival

March 14th, 1889, Victoria Station, 10:30am.

"Oh, come now, mother! Look, see! The station isn't that far! Oh, hurry, we might miss the boat!" I cried, dragging her along behind me; she laughed and hurried along behind me.

The station was packed with travelers going to foreign countries, and coming back from them! Needless to say, it was equivalent to Piccadilly Circus in there! People bustled about everywhere with their servants toting around their luggage in only the finest skins behind them! Most of the women wore big, satin, feathered hats in muted colours and long, beautiful dresses coupled with lush boas of real animals! I smiled proudly to be among these people and tightened my hat's grip upon my head, feeling the white feather bounce around the top.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, I'm coming! You mustn't work an old woman!" She cried from behind me, though, when I turned to glance at her, a wrinkled smile was carefully stitched upon her features. She was always smiling. The train whistle blew once more and I finally spotted our carriage, gasping and hurrying forwards, opening the door for her and allowing her and our servant, Marcus, inside.

"I wonder why father didn't want to come to Paris with us, I mean, it's our first time out of the states! Out of New York! Oh, mother, after we visit Paris can we go to London? I heard the shopping is wonderful there!" I said excitedly as I sat next to my mum; she chuckled and sighed as I helped her into the red, velvet seat.

We were in first class.

"Oh, darling, your father and I grew up in Paris, remember? Oh, I doubt you do, you were too busy blabbering about...what's-his-name" Mum said.

"Benedict, mother, Benedict." I corrected as Marcus handed me a travel book that featured both Paris and London. I smiled and thanked him, sighing and looking about the carriage, it was dark red all around with crimson seats that were only of the finest quality and in a small compartment sat an infinite wine cabinet! Dark wood was the door and a black, velvet curtain covered the windows that sat next to the door; for privacy. Mother was wrong when she said I wasn't listening to her.

In fact, I listened quite carefully.

She and father grew up in France and met at the Paris Opera House, however, father had his eye on another woman; mother's best friend. But, this woman was already in love with someone else (no one will tell me who either of them are!) So father gave up on her, and fell in love with my mother, Meg. I heard, years later the Paris Opera House caught fire and is now abandoned; for some reason, no one's tried to repair it, it just sits in disrepair in the very midst of Paris.

Mother said she was going to take me there!

For some reason, father didn't want to come with us; he was perfectly content sitting in our home in Coney Island and smoking the day away. It seems that's all he did now. He and mother are aging, quite rapidly I feel; they're in their early fifties and I am only twenty four! It seems the world is changing so rapidly and I am the only one standing still. Aside from that, Marcus sat now and sighed, pushing his hat down over his eyes and making the decision to sleep before we arrived at Gare du Norde.

- The train ride seemed especially long, but, it was scenic, to say the minimum.

The sun threw his beautiful rays of golden light down upon the earth and warmed us all beneath the mid-afternoon March sky (which was as blue as the ocean and as clear as a lily pond in summer). The clouds were white cotton candy and the trees that swayed eagerly below them resembled children at a fair.

When we arrived at Gare du Norde, I found it was almost like Victoria Station! People everywhere!

Though, it was all awe-inspiring. Large, gothic buildings rose high above us and church bells chimed! Women wearing the fanciest, most beautiful clothing I had ever seen walked before me, holding cotton balls of dogs on golden leaches! Heavenly scents rose from all around and I spotted a baker, humming a joyous tune, placing a type of chocolate bread on a table for children to eat at. Kites soared through the lake of a sky and children ran about, playing a game that resembled tag, though, I couldn't tell what they were saying; I didn't know French.

I wandered away, towards a large green where couples sat and had lunch and families played happily; mother yelled for me. "Daphne! Come now, we've got to go to the hotel!" She cried, I sighed.

"Oh, may I please stay in the green for a little while? I promise you I won't leave it!" I yelled back to her, she sighed and smiled; nodding. I giggled in excitement and gave a little bounce; Marcus lifted our luggage off of the ground and followed my mother to a cab that headed off in the direction of our hotel. I smiled and started dancing! I'm terribly horrible at it and should've been completely embarrassed to even think of abusing my distasteful skills in public, but, I didn't care! I was in a different country with different people and it was a wonderful day, what had I to lose?

I jumped and skipped and twirled around the green; a few children took up my hand and we sang a French song that went to the tune of 'Ring Around the Rosie'. When they yelled the final verse, that, in English, is 'and we all fall down' they spun me and I fell upon someone! Papers were thrown into the air and I was aware I laid across someone's lap. The children laughed and the person sat up, cursing at them in French; the children ran away, laughing. I sat up upon my elbows and turned to see a man wearing a large, black hat with a black suit and black tie with black trousers and black, shiny shoes.

The hat covered the man's face, so I had no time to look at him.

"O-Oh, m-monsieur, I-I am so, so infinitely sorry!" Said I standing from him and beginning to pick up the papers that flew around us. The man did nothing to help; he only stared at me as I hurried about, gathering the papers before the wind pulled them away from me. When I finally had them all in my hands I found they were music sheets! "Do you fancy composing, monsieur?

These are quite good" said I, making small talk, really I had no idea of how to read music. The man sighed and stood; he towered over me! As he stood he dusted off his suit jacket and I saw how skinny he was; skeletal! I held out the papers to him and he snatched them back; he lifted his hat up a bit and shot me a glare, however, as his glare progressed, it turned into a stare of disbelief. But, there was something that troubled me about his stare; his eyes, his eyes were daffodils!

My mouth dried and I blinked several times in surprise; the man also paused, but, hopefully not for the same reason I did. He reached out and with a black, gloved hand gently ghosted his fingers over my cheek. "Christine.." he whispered in utter astonishment.

"Excuse me, monsieur? What did you say?" I asked; then, my name was yelled from behind me; I quickly turned and spotted my mother hanging out of the window of a cab, waving to me. "G-Goodbye, monsieur, good day" said I as I attempted to leave, but, the man grasped my wrist.

"Why must you leave me so soon? Not again, Christine, you've left me once already; a second time I dare not think of." He said quickly; his voice was so soothing and gentle that I stayed for a few moments; too wonder filled to say anything.

"M-Monsieur, I believe you have me confused with someone else; I'm not Christine, I'm Daphne." I explained with a smile; the man now allowed my wrist to slip out of his grasp and I hurried away, back to the cab and jumped inside.

- "Who was that man?" Mother asked when I entered the cab.

"I have no idea, he continuously called me 'Christine' and insisted upon me staying with him. He had yellow eyes, mother! Have you ever seen such a thing? I know I haven't." Said I, mother grasped my arms with unprecedented strength and leaned very close to me.

"How did you come by this man?" Asked she in an extremely stern tone.

"I bumped into him, well, I was thrown into him. I was playing with some children and they twirled me and I...kind of...fell...on him." I explained; mother closed her eyes and rubbed her face; she now turned to Marcus.

"Make sure he doesn't follow, alright?" She asked him, Marcus nodded and my brows furrowed together; why was she so afraid of this man?


	2. Day One in Paris

**Chapter Two: Day One in Paris**

- "But, why can't we go out again?" I asked, rolling on my bed in the hotel room; I laid upside down with my head hanging off of one side, but my body completely straight on the bed. There was a strange heat gathering in my cheeks and I smiled; I felt a bit lightheaded.

Because mother is...sick and tired" she countered.

"Isn't that what we have Marcus for? Remember when he healed me when I had pneumonia in less than a week? Marcus is completely _overqualified_ to take care of you, mother; besides, I'm hungry!" I said, she walked past me and I rolled, laying on my stomach as my hair flopped around my face; she put her greying hair into a bun.

"Call room service" said she flatly.

"Oh, come now, mother! We're in Paris!" I started, jumping off of the bed and grasping her hands twirling and dancing with her as I spoke. "The most romantic, sought after place for the best delicacies on earth! Besides, we're on holiday! Let go" I finished, twirling her and letting go of her hand, she fell onto my bed; laughing with rosy cheeks. She sighed and cupped her hands around my own cheeks; sighing as her eyelids drooped, she nodded and her hands fell by her sides.

"Marcus is going with you" said she; my face fell and she grinned. "Do you, all of a sudden, know French now? I think not! You'll need some help ordering the _'best delicacies on earth'_" she finished, I giggled and threw my arms around her, hugging her tightly. With a skip and a goodbye, I threw on my hat and followed Marcus down the hallway to the stairs; Marcus was a short, African American man who's resting face was a sickly scowl, however, once you got to know him, you saw that his exterior did him quite a lot of injustice.

He always wore the most dashing suits, though! They were always a satinish black with a sleek, black top hat (when we left to go outside in public) and always-polished black shoes. I'd never seen a single spec of dust or mud upon them!

- When we left the hotel I skipped ahead of Marcus and he remained silent; as long as he could see me, I was free to roam where ever I fancied. As I skipped around the park I felt something slap against my leg; it didn't hurt, it just startled me. I glanced down to see it was a singular sheet of paper! Happily I plucked the paper off of my leg and examined it, why, it was a music sheet! And, not only a music sheet, but it looked almost identical to the music sheets I gathered for the man with the yellow eyes, earlier!

The sheet was titled _'Love's First Bleeding Heart'_; not a very upbeat name.

Marcus strolled over to me and leaned over my shoulder, and, I realized, Marcus knew how to read music. "Marcus, can you make the noises that these notes are?" I asked, pointing to them; he nodded.

"Of course, ma'am" said he; all of the notes were low notes and it was a quite depressing song. But, by no means at all was it dreary. My heart was capsuled inside each note, and, I felt a large lump, a lump the size of the moon form in my throat. It's as if the author of this music craved the audience to feel the same resentful woe that ate at him like a vulture prays upon a dead carcass; and, in those moments, that's what I felt like, a carcass. And the author, the vulture.

By the end of the song I was sitting upon a warm bench, in tears.

"Ma'am, there are still ten measures left, would you like me to continue?" He asked with eyes that showered compassion. I smiled and wiped away my tears.

"No, no, it's quite alright, Marcus, thank you." I whispered, clearing my throat and standing again. "Are we ready to get some food?" I asked, Marcus smiled and nodded, and off we went.

- As we ate I stared at the notes inked upon the paper; it was like a cryptograph...I never was good at those. Father was, though, he was the fastest man alive to solve a cryptograph! He helped the military with it once, he said. All of a sudden, as I finished off my crepe, a young boy in dirtied, green overalls and a brown, cotton shirt hurried over to me, he also wore a small, green hat. "C'est pour les femme" said he, giving me an envelope, tipping his hat, and hurrying away; not even waiting for a tip!

"O-Oh" said I as I unlocked my pocket book and watched the child run away, out of the restaurant and onto the street. Marcus chuckled and I closed my pocket book, taking up the letter again and turning it to the back, only to encounter a red seal of a puffed up skull. Marcus straightened up in his seat and glanced around anxiously. I opened it carefully and took out a note that read:

_'My dearest, Christine, _

_ How could you forget your Angel of Music? You've hit your head, no doubt, I should've known when you didn't return from the market. Ayesha and I miss you terribly, why have you gone astray and let some woman call you Daphne? Ah-again, you hit your head! Of course! _

_Amnesia! How could I be so utterly incompetent? I should've gone with you, but, Ayesha's cough was aggravated that night, and, as you know I had to stay with her. I see you found the first page of our music; why did you cry? You know it hurts me to see you cry, especially when you don't tell me what's wrong. _

_Oh, butterfly, come back home tonight; wait, you may not know where home is; the Paris Opera House, it's been our home for some years now. Come back to me, my angel, I will be awaiting your presence._

_With all the love a heart may offer, _

_ (signed) Your Angel of Music.'_

"What?" I whispered as I read over the letter again; it was that man! That man from the green! He still thinks I'm this Christine woman! Then, as I read over the second paragraph, I felt a chill run through my spine; that man was_ watching us_.

I gasped and looked anxiously up to Marcus who I handed the letter; Marcus ripped francs out of his purse and threw them upon the table, grasping my wrist and quickly pulling me along behind him.

He was frantic, was Marcus. His eyes scanned everyone and everything, awaiting someone to threaten us.

- We made it to the hotel safely and immediately after we entered one of the rooms we bought (we bought three) Marcus handed mother the note and her skin fell two shades whiter; she closed her eyes and shook her head. "I just wanted a holiday away from that..._monster_" she whispered, tears clouding her eyes.

.


	3. Sneak Out

Chapter Three: Sneak Out

- Mother banned me from leaving the hotel room until further notice. "It's nothing you've done wrong, dear. It's just that, mother wants you to stay as safe as possible, alright? Here, I can watch you, and make sure you're safe." Said she, kissing the top of my head; she walked away and I fell backwards on the bed, not caring if my dress went up for not.

- I read through all of my books at least twice, and stared longingly out of the window (on purpose). I knew how to make my mother crack, it was either be so terribly happy and excited about something that she will let you do it, or, be so terribly depressed about her ruling that she'll let you go do it anyways!

I had already been terribly happy, and now the terribly poutish Daphne needed to be woken up from the depths of my emotions.

I knew the risks of leaving again, but, for some reason, there was something that drew me to the man I was thrown into on the green. I couldn't quite place my finger upon it, but I felt it, it was as if a rope was wrapped around me and he was at the other end, tugging me towards him. Besides, I wanted to visit the Paris Opera House anyways! And...the man wouldn't hurt me...would he? I...I don't think he would, then again, mother said never to talk with strangers...then again, I kind of blew that rule...how many rules had I broken in a single day?

Quite a lot.

Hmm, that isn't normally like me!

I sighed and broke from my thoughts; they were always so confusing and jumbled and I always turned out having a headache afterwards. I quietly pulled the man on the green's letter out of my pocket and scanned over it once more; who was this Christine woman he mistook me for? And, who was this Ayesha? She must've been their child. Then, I came to a decision. I would sneak out that night and kindly give the man back his music sheet and explain to him who I was and this would all straighten out and go away and I could enjoy my vacation to Paris, right?

...Right!

- That night, before leaving into her own room, mother sat on my bed as I brushed my hair; I sat in my nightgown, but, before I would leave, I would change into a different dress; walking into public with a nightgown on was just unclassy! "Darling, I wanted you to know that, whatever happens, mother loves you, very much." She said, I smiled.

"And, I love you too, mother...I just..." I whispered, averting my gaze from hers.

"You what?" Asked she, leaning forwards and gently touching my arm.

"T-There was a sentence you said...after Marcus and I came back and you read the note that man sent to me. I can't remember vividly what you said, I just remember you calling that man a 'monster'; well, when I met him, nothing about his demeanor gave me cause to believe that he was one!...D-Do you know that man, mother?" I asked hesitantly, attempting to choose my words but blathering it all out as fast as I thought it up. Needless to say, I wasn't very good at speaking or 'sugar coating' things.

She turned away from me and I moved behind her, gingerly placing my hands upon her old, creaky shoulders; that, once I applied pressure to them, popped and snapped. She sighed in satisfaction and rubbed her face. "I...I did know him...at one time, but, darling, that was a long time ago...very long" said she, swaying as each hand applied pressure and released her shoulders; in a pattern.

"Then...he could've changed! For good!" I said excitedly, continuing to massage her shoulders.

"Yes...he could've...but, reading that letter, I think not" said she, turning back to me; I let my hands drop to my lap and she smiled. "I've booked three tickets for us to go back to England where we will spend the remainder of our vacation-"

"But, mother! We haven't gotten to see anything yet!" I cried, she stood and stared down at me, I crawled forwards, on all fours on the bed, staring up at her with pleading eyes. "The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Jardin des Tuileries, The Arc de Triomphe, Musee d'Orsay, Place de la Concorde, the Paris Opera House! Oh, mother, please!

I may not ever get this chance to come see Paris, ever again" I pleaded, on the verge of tears. She sat down on the bed again and I backed away; she gave a weak smile and twirled a loose piece of my hair.

"Of course you'll get the chance again; your father and I will marry you off to a good, strong, rich Viscount; and then, you'll become a Countess and may go where ever you fancy" she explained.

"No, mother, no...I...this..." I said, glancing around the room again, I gave and exasperated sigh and sat back upon my haunches. She kissed the top of my head again and whispered goodnight, closing my door after her, and, I was alone.

- I waited until the clock struck ten to silently ready myself; that night I wore a lovely violet dress with white lace around the neck and cuffs, my hair lay curled (as was its natural state) just below my shoulders; I packed the music sheet in my small purse and off I went. Creeping down the hallway, past Marcus and my mother's rooms as silently as was humanly possible.

The night was warm and the hum of insects around me caused me to smile.

The night was alive! People laughed and spoke jollily to one another; women dressed in their best furs and went out to see a ballet. But, the ballet was no longer at the Paris Opera House, for, the Paris Opera House caught fire many years ago. (Wait, haven't I said this before?) Anyways, sadly, I broke away from the crowd; taking a completely wrong turn!

I ended up in a small alley littered with trash, old food, and god knows what. And, when I attempted to turn back, there was a man in my way! He was short, shorter than me, and carried short black hair with dazzling green eyes. He wore a dirtied red shirt and brown trousers that were torn up to the knees; his resting face looked that of a murderer and, in no aid to this, he carried a long, iron pole in his right hand. I backed away and bumped into another man, quickly turning to see a tall, African American man in blue overalls and a torn top hat.

I stood nervously between the men, I gave a small, anxious laugh and sighed. "P-Please, I just want to get back; I must go to the Paris Opera House" said I, hurriedly glancing from one man to the other.

"What's your business at the Paris Opera House?" The small one sneered; I straightened up and gathered a bit of stupidity.

"That is not of your concern" I declared; the men laughed and I looked from one to the other quickly. "W-What?" I asked shakily.

"Your courage!" The small one laughed, his high voice beginning to try my nerves. "Oh, man, he didn't lie about you having amnesia, at all, Christine!" The small one added, laughing so hard he fell to the ground. I turned to the African American man and clenched tightly at my purse.

"I am not Christine; my name is Daphne, Daphne de Chagny! I am the daughter of Count Raoul de Chagny and Countess Megan de Chagny; this is why I need to get to the Paris Opera House, to explain to the man who I am" I said, addressing both men. The small man wiped his eye and walked over to me, grasping my hand and pulling me down to his level.

"Listen, Christine, you got conked on the head, that's all. Don't worry, your husband will explain everything when we arrive" said he, pulling me out of the alleyway, still holding my hand with me bent down to his height.

"Husband?!" I cried in horror. The small man turned to me and allowed my hand to go back to me. He rubbed his face in frustration.

"God, damn, you must've gotten hit hard! Yes, your husband!" He yelled, I gave him a frank expression and he smacked the palms of his hands against his head. "The man in the park!" He screamed, loosing his patience with me. I paused and shook my head.

"But, I'm not Christine" I whispered, the small man grasped my hand again and began pulling me to the Paris Opera House.

"Whatever, you'll see Christie, you'll see" the small man said quietly.

- The night became even darker as we headed away from the festivities and closer to the quieter side of Paris. The moon was waxing and our way was lit by a series of street lamps on either side of the cobblestone road; the stars twinkled in the sky, nudging the moon to become brighter, but the moon seemed to be quite lazy that night!

It seemed we walked for an eternity and a day before we reached a large, gothic style building with golden angels hanging off of each side! There was a great, glass dome at the top of the building and I could clearly see that some of these windows were smashed through; along with most of the main windows to the building, the rest were boarded shut. The moon fell behind the opera house and added to its imposing posture; I gaped in awe as the shadow thrown down from the building bathed us three. "This is...this is..." I whispered feeling my jaw unhinge; both men laughed and pulled me towards the marble staircase leading up to the front door. The small man allowed my body parts to come back to me and produced a small, golden key; he turned to me and placed the key in the palm of my hand.

"Go on, Christine, open it." Said he, I closed my eyes and turned towards the door.

"My name is not Christine" I whispered beneath my breath, inserting the key into the small hole and turning it all the way around; finally feeling the lock click and the door cracked open. I paused before the door; a little worried about going in, for, the spance before me was nothing but utter, despairing, blackness.


	4. Who am I?

**Chapter Four: Who am I?**

- I paused before the door and let it swing open; not a bit of light flooding in or out.

Just utter darkness.

The small man grasped my hand and gently pulled me into the dark abyss that lay before me. "Whoa, whoa! How can you tell where you're going?" I asked as the large, African American man shut the door behind us, and locked it.

"Ah, Christie, I've been down this way thousands of times, ya know, giving you your groceries and all." He replied, pulling me through the darkness; I still didn't understand how he saw through the darkness, it was thicker than tomato soup! I couldn't even see the small man two feet before me! "Alright, now, when we reach the first set of stairs I'll give you the lantern and you can finish the way down the cellars." The small man said.

"Cellars?" I asked questioningly; the small man groaned.

"Yes, Christie; cellars. You live in the fifth cellar, upon a lake, with your husband and cat." The small man explained; I nodded unsurely and hesitantly followed the small man, attempting to search my surrounding area with squinted eyes, but, I found nothing, only large, black masses. All of a sudden the small man paused and I almost ran into him!

"Wha, what?" I asked and the small man let go of my hand; moments later a glow was struck up before me and a black lantern was lit; the small man handed this to me and stepped out of the way, motioning to go down the stairs.

"Go on, now, Christie, he's waiting for you" the small man said; I sighed and took up the lantern, clutching my purse tightly and slowly working my way down the stairs; even with the lantern it was almost impossible to see! I nearly fell on the third set of stairs! For a moment, I couldn't feel a stair beneath my foot and I gasped and reached out for a banister, but there wasn't one. I cried out and fell forwards, but, before I could hit the ground someone wrapped their arms underneath my own and my cheek laid upon their chest. It was warm and smelt like cinnamon.

I could hear their heart beating, quite rapidly too.

In my plight I had accidently let go of the lantern and it lay shattered beside us, upon the concrete pad. I looked up to find that it was the man from the park! He was smiling softly down to me and I couldn't move, he pushed me back up and guided a few rogue hairs out of my face before cupping my cheek in his hand. "Beautiful" he whispered, taking up my hand and smiling; beside him he picked up a perfectly fine lantern, I glanced around to find that the shattered lantern was gone!

We moved slowly down the stairs and he glanced back, every few seconds to see if I still followed behind him. His hand was warm and his skin felt of the velvet throws mother kept on our couch in the living area back at home. His black cloak swirled around him and revealed a bright crimson underneath; flying back and enveloping me too. For lack of better words, I followed him like I was a marionette and he was pulling the strings; I was, in all honesty, a meat puppet. I was entranced, star struck even, at him; there was just something about him that I fancied, that I found myself incapable of staying away from him for too long.

Finally, we paused and, I wasn't fully aware of it, but the room around us was lit now and the lantern was gone from his hands! He let go of my hand now and backed away a few paces; my legs seemed to have a mind of their own as I continued forwards, following after him. His hand extended once more and his index finger pulled towards himself twice, a motion to tell me to come forwards. And so, I did. I walked forwards and he paused, so, I walked straight into his arms and the man lifted me off of the ground!

My trance was broken and I frantically glanced around to see that he was walking me towards a lake, and, upon the lake, floating contently, was a small boat called a 'gondola'. The gondola was a dark brown wood with two lanterns attached to the front and two to the back; however, they weren't needed, on the walls and floating upon the water were candelabras! They were _floating _upon the water! The man set me down gingerly into the gondola and climbed in after me, taking up ore and pushing us off of the shore; gently paddling us towards well, wherever we were going!

The strange thing was that this man, nor this situation, raised any alerts for me. I never felt out of comfort or uneasy; not even when the small man lead me through the darkened opera house!

Within moments I spotted a shore, it was covered in sand and small waves lapped against it; and, a few yards away from the shoreline, there was a house! A house with a door and a black mat to wipe your feet off on! However, there were no windows. The man climbed out of the gondola and docked us, and, for some reason, I stayed stationary and the man stood beside the gondola and took me back up in his arms; smiling to me and turning me towards the house. "We're home, my bride" said he so softly and peacefully that I smiled and, unknowingly at the moment, I nodded!

He carried me so tenderly into the house that I relaxed in his arms as the door swung open by itself and swung closed behind us! The man took me into the first room, which was a small parlor-like area with red furniture which composed of: a fainting couch, a regular couch, and two wingback chairs. There also was a dark, wooden table in the midst of all this and a dark, wooden armoire sat on the left side of the room whilst a black, marble fireplace sat on the right, blackened even more from years of usage. He laid me down upon the fainting couch and hurried to the table before me, sitting down upon it and sighing in satisfaction. "I dare not tell you how distraught I was, my love, when you didn't return from the market; oh, Ayesha cried for hours upon end!"

He cried with a chuckle, he sighed and jumped up. "Ayesha! She must see you again! Oh, she'll be so happy you're back!" He yelled in excitement, smiling and shuffling out of the room into a different room, only to return seconds later holding a small cat in his arms.

Ayesha was a cat!

I thought she was a child!

I smiled and the man took this smile for remembrance; he handed me the cat and grinned as she purred happily in my lap, knocking her hand into my hand and rubbing against me. Ayesha was a Persian cat with blue eyes and she wore a golden collar complete with inlayed diamonds and rubies! Gosh, the collar alone must be worth two billion pounds, not to mention such an expensive cat!

This man had a taste for the lavish.

He stood before the fainting couch and watched as the cat licked my face and settled down upon my lap; laying her head down upon her paw and closing her eyes. She was going to sleep on me! I had never met this cat before, h-how did it get to like me so fast? The man knelt down to me and took up my hand kissing it multiple times and pressing it against his cheek; closing his eyes and relaxing his body.

As I stared at him the urge to kiss him became more and more overpowering until, I finally did! It was a kiss to his forehead, and it was a quick one at that. The man looked up to me and smiled both with his lips and his eyes; snuggling up against my hand once more. I smiled, and glanced down to the sleeping cat upon my lap, she would let out a purr every so often, my smile widened, I liked it here. It was quiet and peaceful, but, the busy world of Paris was just up above if I needed a break from it all; it wouldn't be a bad set up...

Oh, my.

I should've listened to mother!

I was getting attached to this man, this life, I needed to tell him who I really was and maybe the real Christine would come back and retain her life.

When thinking this thought I turned and stared through a door that the man had disappeared through to get Ayesha, when I saw a portrait of me! But, it was me in a dress I had never seen before, and, I was singing! And, it was me, unmistakably me! I had a birthmark on my neck, and, sure enough, I could clearly spot it!

My god.

...Who am I?


	5. Christine, or Daphne?

_Chapter Five: Christine, or Daphne? _

- It was two hours before the man and cat stopped cuddling me; only because my stomach growled and screamed for food. "Oh, angel, you're hungry? No matter! I'll cook you something, what would you like?" The man asked, jumping up from cuddling my hand; in his eyes sparkled vivaciousness and an untamed eagerness to please me. I smiled at this.

"Anything...really. I'm not very picky" said I and the man chuckled with a light smile set upon his lips.

"I know, we've been married for five years, two months, twenty days, four minutes and eight...nine seconds" he said, again with a smile; the cat, Ayesha, had jumped off of my lap when the man jumped off of the floor at hearing my stomach. She meowed at him now and he chuckled; lifting her gingerly off of the ground and placing her in my lap where she again settled down. The man disappeared down a hallway and within seconds I heard sizzling come from the direction he disappeared in. I slowly stood, causing the cat to jump off of my lap, and made my way into the room that held my picture. At a much closer inspection, I found that it looked even more frighteningly like me than from far away!

Same birthmark, same leading right hand, same eyes, hair, body type, everything!

But, this couldn't be true! I would remember something as big as being married and singing at the Paris Opera House...wouldn't I?

All of a sudden I felt hands rest around my waist and I jumped; turning to see the man from the park smiling dreamily at me. I gulped and he sighed, laying his chin down upon my shoulder. "Do you remember that night? It was the first night you showed off the voice I helped you build, you were a star and you glittered and glowed so brightly upon that stage no one needed binoculars to see a thing! Oh, my angel of music, that night was a triumph for us both; it was also the first night you came down to our home."

Said he, sighing in satisfaction at the memory. "Tomorrow I'll take you out and we can go antiquing, as you so loved to do" said he, and this comment stuck with me. Antiquing, I loved to go antiquing! Mother and I would...go...all the...time...I broke from his grasp now and turned towards him; facing away from the picture of me.

"Monsieur, I came down to tell you that I am not Christine; my name is Daphne de Chagny, daughter of the Count de Chagny and Countess Megan de Chagny of Coney Island, New York. I am sorry you lost your Christine and I will do everything in my power to help you find her, but, I am not she, monsieur. I am only but twenty years of age, monsieur; if you and she were both in your late teens when the Paris Opera House was in full function you would have to be in your...early...forties or late thirties." I paused, doing math on the fly; hoping it was correct. The man paused and his eyes darkened ever more.

"Oh, Christine" the man said in a solemn tone. "I knew Raoul would attempt to get you again, I knew it! Oh, my angel of music, don't believe that; don't believe that eunuch, he'll lie to the devil if it means he gets what he wants. Little Christine, he lied to you, come, come with me; I must show you something." Said the man from the park, grasping my hand and pulling me into a strange, little parlor area he called the 'Louis-Philippe room' and sitting me down upon a couch; he ran to a bookshelf and tore out three books, hurrying back over to me and presenting them.

"This is the diary you kept during the whole affair, and, here's a book of your drawings I saved, oh-oh! And, here is a few photographs we had taken, remember these?" The man asked, opening the book and holding it down to me so I could see a picture of he and I standing in the very green we were thrown into each other in, save, I was in a large, lavish wedding dress and he wore a black suit with his shiny, white, half mask. I stared at the pictures for a few moments until whispering:

"Wedding photos"

The man nodded quickly. "These are our wedding pictures, there's two more, but, they're quite fuzzy; remember how Raoul and Meg came to our reception unannounced? And, Raoul sliced the cake to bits? No? Well, he did, Meg just stood back and watched as he threw a...a tantrum to be completely honest."

The man finished with a sigh; he gave the book to me and turned away for a moment, opening a drawer to his desk and taking out a black, small, velvet box and withdrawing the ring from inside. "I uh...I had three made for you...just in case you lost one and the other got damaged." Said he, walking back to me and taking up my left hand; kissing it as he slipped the ring onto my marital finger. And, I let him! I just stared dumbly at it as he did so, my god, was the diamond huge!

It was the largest cut diamond I had ever set my eyes upon!

And for it to sit so inconspicuously in a wedding ring caused me to marvel at it ever more. "D-Do you like it?" The man asked with a nervous tinge infringing upon his angelic voice.

"...I...I love it..." I whispered, completely baffled. I looked up to him now and shook my head; I was so confused, who was I? What was my real name? More importantly, who were my real parents?

- I spent that day at the man's home, he made me both lunch and dinner as I read through the diary that I supposedly wrote. He, however, switched from playing a ginormous organ that sat a few feet away from me, to sitting right beside me with Ayesha laying upon his lap and sleeping peacefully.

Speaking of the diary, it was all as the man, and my mother, said. Christine loved the man, who, I found out his name was Erik, and Erik loved her; whilst, my father, Raoul, loved Christine too, but, the feeling wasn't mutual. So, in stead of pursuing her, he fell in love with my mother, Megan Giry and they had me; however, it ends with my parent's story as the two leaving for New York. Christine and Erik lived happily together until they found that Christine was unable to have children and then everything started going to hell. Christine was more depressed and Erik did everything he could to get her out; and, one day, she woke up and was happy.

She was just happy again, she wrote that she was going to the market, and, that's where the journal ended. As I pondered all the things the man, Erik, had shown me I felt that the timelines didn't match up; then again, one can be brainwashed quite quickly...

My head fell into my hands and I sighed; Erik sat beside me and massaged my shoulders. "Who am I, Erik?" I asked softly as he placed light kisses on my neck.

"Christine Anne Muhlheim; the Primadonna of the Paris Opera House" he explained in a whisper to my ear. I sighed.

"But, nothing matches up! Nothing makes sense; why...why would they lie to me? What reason would they to have to lie to me?" I asked; Erik wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me onto his lap.

"Raoul is an evil man; only god knows his intentions." Erik replied; I laid my head back, onto his shoulder. I didn't know what it was about him that made me feel so comfortable, but, I did. Then, a flip was switched on in my brain. I turned to him suddenly.

"Come with me" I said quickly.

"What?"

"Come with me to go see mo-I mean, Meg. She's here, in Paris, and, I know how to get her to tell us the truth" said I; Erik smiled and nodded, grasping my hand and leading me out of his home and into the gondola.

- "Meg!" I cried, pulling Erik behind me as we reached the three rooms Meg and Raoul had bought for us for this vacation. "Meg?" I yelled again, checking all around the rooms, but, there was no one to be found. I peeked into her WC when Erik gave a cry of discovery.

"Christine! I found something!" He yelled, not even wanting to argue with him, I just hurried into the room, it was a note! It read:

_Dearest Daphne,_

_Marcus and I have left back for the states; we alerted the Paris police of your disappearance and, if you are reading this, go to the coordinates listed below and your father and I will be alerted._

_With love and care, _

_(signed) Meg de Chagny. _

I paused. "This doesn't make sense...why would she leave me here?" I asked; turning to Erik. He wore a smile upon his face.

"Because your name isn't Daphne" he said simply. "It's a rouse, a con, and now, now you have proof, my love! Now you have proof that those two are just trying to muddle with our life together" said Erik, one of his arms wrapping around my waist and the other cupping my cheek. "Come, my lovely, I'll take you home" said he, pulling me out of the room; I still carried the note.

"But...but, Erik, wait! The coordinates, shouldn't we at least try to see what's there?" I asked and he gave a slight smile as the clock chimed midnight.

"Tomorrow, my angel of music, we'll do that, tomorrow" he replied calmly, taking up my arm and walking with me beside him, back to the Paris Opera House and down to his home upon the lake.


	6. Coordinates

_Chapter Six: Coordinates _

- It was one of the strangest nights I had ever encountered. We slept in the same bed together and it was not completely awkward, but, I wasn't used to it; still, this man was a stranger to me, but, who had I to know now since mother and Marcus left me here? The man named Erik placed his arm around my waist and snuggled up behind me; laying his leg over mine and sighing happily. "Goodnight, my beautiful Christine" he whispered, kissing the back of my, well, hair.

"Goodnight, Erik" said I hesitantly; Erik chuckled and only held me closer.

- I woke to find that I was alone in the bedroom, but, emanating from the kitchen was the sweet smell of pastries! I seemed to float out of the bed and drop onto the floor, following my nose to the source of the wonderful scent. I popped my head into a large room where I saw Erik standing before a black stove and in his hand was a large, black pan; in that was a brown pastry he flipped twice and planted on a white plate with blue designs around the edges. Pancakes! He was preparing me pancakes!

I loved pancakes, they were my favorite breakfast food!

I stepped into the kitchen and Erik turned, he smiled. "I'm making you breakfast; I was going to give it to you as breakfast in bed, but, I see you've awoken. I know you loved pancakes so, I made them for you." He said, smiling even wider; I thanked him and walked around the large kitchen to a small dining table that would barely fit two people! A few moments later he finished with the pancakes and quickly brought over a plate of pancakes, bacon and cooked eggs sprinkled with cheese and tomatoes.

I was almost in awe; how did he know I loved my eggs cooked with cheese and tomatoes? How did he know I loved pancakes? "This looks...absolutely delicious, thank you" said I to him; he smiled and leaned down, quickly planting a kiss on my cheek and hurrying back to the kitchen, beginning on his meal. As I ate what was truly the most delicious meal I had ever been given the pleasure to eat, I would catch him stealing glances at me. I smiled and we ate together in silence; we didn't speak until we arrived in the coordinates on the back of the note mother gave to me.

"A graveyard? No...this can't be right!" I said, checking back at the directions, however, they were. "Why would she tell us to go to a graveyard?" I asked, looking up to Erik who shrugged and helped me out of the carriage; gently taking up my arm and leading me into the cemetery.

The clouds seemed to blanket and darken the sky as we entered, the trees, though lush and full, leaned close to us and leered; as we walked on, the very graves themselves seemed to jar at us, growing bigger and bigger. We walked from small graves no bigger than my arm to elephantine mausoleums which towered over us! On the back of the note it said we were looking for a black, marble mausoleum with golden writing and iron roses carved into the mausoleum door. Erik and I wandered about the cemetery for hours and we could find no such mausoleum, not until, however, we split up.

It was quite scary being on my own with the sky darkening every second. The trees appeared more threatening, as if their branches would turn into large hands and steal me away! I could barely see the winding, cobblestone path and many times tripped over gravestones, landing mostly on my face. Bats flew above my head and screeched to one another, I knew they did more good than harm, but, still the eeriness of this place was haunting. I glanced away from the path for a moment, maybe not even that, and I ran smack dab into a mausoleum; falling on my butt.

I shook my head and slowly stood, running my fingers over the door I felt iron! It was bent into strange shapes, which, I guessed could be roses. I allowed my hand to stretch until I felt the intentions of a name carved into the top; my fingers fit in the indentions and I said the letters aloud. "D" I started "A...A" I continued, the last letter was the hardest to make out, and, I paused when I did. "E" I whispered; Daae. Christine's original last name.

"E-Erik! I found it!" I cried, allowing my hand to drop; I turned away from the mausoleum and towards the rest of the cemetery to find that everything was quiet...and dark. I was never very fond of the dark, I couldn't see anything! "E-Erik! I'm here, I've found the mausoleum, or, at least, I believe I have!

Erik!" I cried, listening to my own voice echo steadily off of the mausoleums that gathered all around me like a type of gang. "E-Erik?" I whimpered, gasping as the fingers of fear clenched tightly around my heart and squeezed it like it was a waterlogged sponge. In this moment I saw a figure walking towards me and I was at once overcome with relief.

"Oh, Erik! You scared the life out of me!" I cried with a laugh, but, this figure never spoke, it continued walking towards me with a strange menace about it. "E-Erik?" I asked uncertainly; then, the figure started running for me!

I gasped and hurried around the mausoleum, running away from the figure as fast as was humanly possible; tripping over tombstones and smacking into both trees and mausoleums alike! I must've been covered in bruises, but, I didn't care, I need to find Erik, Erik would protect me...wouldn't he? I screamed for Erik several times, running all about the cemetery, listening to the person's labored breathing behind me. I felt like I smacked into another tree, but, this tree was warm! I fell upon my back and discovered that I ran into a man!

But, there was something about the man; then, I saw the shiny glitter of the moon's rays against a mask.

Erik!

"Erik!" I cried, hurriedly standing and running into his arms.

"What's the matter, my angel? I heard your cries and came at once!" He said, petting my hair and kissing my forehead. I explained to him in short breaths what happened and he nodded.

"Raoul" he hissed, glancing around the cemetery in disgust. He sighed. "We'll come back tomorrow, when it's morning, at least now we know we must walk a good ways in." Said Erik as he lifted me from the ground and into his arms; carrying me gently back to the carriage.

- He catered to my wounds when we arrived back at the home upon the lake too. Bruises and scratches of all sorts covered my face and arms; I appeared terrible! "I don't understand how you can look at me; I'm practically a walking bruise" I said with a laugh, though, Erik only smiled.

"You're perfect, in every way, in any state, at any time. You are so beautiful and perfect to me that...well, it can't be measured. For, it is impossible to press the infinite into such finite words." He replied with a smile, dabbing a scratch on my cheek with a cold rag; I smiled and bit my lip. He was so sweet, so caring, gosh, he was wonderful!

I sighed and leaned forwards, giving him a quick kiss on the lips and leaning back; feeling my cheeks heat and watching his own turn vermillion. He grinned and kissed my cheek. "You deserve all the kisses in the world" said he; I sighed.

"Stop being so wonderful and making me want to kiss you all over!" I cried with a laugh; his eyes widened and his cheeks burned a deeper crimson than they already were!

"Y-You have never wanted to do that to me before..." he said, trailing off, I smiled.

"Sure I have, I just...I've never been vocal about it." I paused "so, wait a moment, we've never gotten...ya know...physical before? Not even on the wedding night?" I asked and he laughed.

"No, you've never said I could touch you like that...so...I haven't." He replied with a smile; I sighed, he was even more wonderful than I first thought! I leaned forwards and hugged him, laying my head upon his chest and sighing; his heart beat was so fast! But, soon, as he relaxed, it relaxed and I sprawled out upon the floor, smiling happily as I closed my eyes and fell asleep holding onto him.


End file.
